


Starbucks and Sticky Notes

by beesinacoat



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Teachers, Fluff, I would've written her better if i knew how, M/M, also im so sorry i wrote allura like that, hope yall like it, i wrote this originally as an english assignment and just changed the names, im just dumb, im sorry if they're a bit OC, this was my first time writing with vld, to clarify allura's a Bad Bitch and I Love Her
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-10
Updated: 2018-12-10
Packaged: 2019-09-15 12:33:04
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,728
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16933326
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/beesinacoat/pseuds/beesinacoat
Summary: "Why don't you tell us about that painting you just stared down for a full two minutes straight?"





	Starbucks and Sticky Notes

Keith stood, stock still, and stared his opponent down. It remained unmoving, as did he. A minute passed in silence, and then it was broken as one of his students spoke up.  
“Mr. Kogane?” Keith blinked out of his stupor and looked to the student: a timid girl in his chemistry class, hand always raised with the answer.  
“Yes, Clara?”  
Satisfied she had his attention, Clara continued. “Class started four and a half minutes ago. Can we please start today’s lesson?” Every student in the class turned and glared at her, and several shushed her. A different student, one of the kids at the back who spent most of their time on their phones, raised his hand and spoke, the childish grin on his face giving away the fact he was trying to stall.  
“About that, Mr. Kogane: why don’t you tell us about that painting you just stared down for a full two minutes straight?” Chuckles reverberated throughout the class at Keith’s expense, and he found himself quietly approaching the easel propping the painting up. It was a swirl of reds, pinks, purples, and whites. An intentional chaos of colours and brushstrokes. Yellow stars were placed here and there, and it held a certain semblance to a galaxy made of berries and red velvet cake. It was captivating.  
Keith found himself at a loss of words to describe the painting to his students.  
“It’s… beautiful,” he breathed. There was a moment of quiet as the students waited for him to continue. When he didn’t and kept gazing at the painting, the second student, Matt, spoke up again.  
“Couldn’t you tell us, like… about the paints? Or your inspiration behind the picture?” he was clearly grasping at straws to stall Keith as long as possible to avoid as much work as possible. And in his awestruck state, he wasn’t hard to stall.  
“You know, usually I totally would, but I know absolutely nothing about this painting.” The students were confused now, and even Clara was intrigued now.  
“Didn’t you paint it, Mr. Kogane?” Clara questioned. Keith just shook his head and then regarded his class.  
“Were any of you here when this was brought into the room?” Keith asked, still slightly awestruck. Everyone shook their heads. “Huh. Well, I’m assuming you all want some time for those questions from yesterday, so have at it, for now.” He approached the easel slowly, tuning out the soft chatter of his students. As he circled the painting, he noticed the blue sticky note attached to the back of the canvas. He quickly snatched it and ran his gaze over the front and back or the note, taking in every cursive letter in dark blue ink.  
Keith Kogane- I sat at my easel one afternoon and couldn’t get you off my mind. This painting is the product of that. I hope you like this gift as much as I like you.  
xo- Necal Imcancil  
Keith was in shock. He had a… secret admirer? What, was he in elementary school again? What did “Necal Imcancil” even mean? It must have been a name, though it was odd. Lack of maturity aside, he couldn’t help but ponder who it could be as he wandered back over to his desk. Ms. Alforson, the English teacher across the hall, had always been quite flirty and friendly with Keith. But he’d seen her artistic skills before, and she was not capable of that level of artistry. Mr. Shirogane, the physics teacher a floor up, had made subtle advances, but never enough for Keith to seriously consider him as the culprit. Ms. Romelle was three classrooms down, and although she was one of the art teachers, she mainly taught music and dance, and was also very superstitious (three classrooms down = not good). Mr. McClain was the visual art teacher, but his classroom was on the other side of the school, and although he was always flirting with Keith, he flirted with everyone. Maybe Ms. Alforson had commissioned an artist to paint it for her. That might explain the odd gift.  
Keith took a deep breath and set the note aside into his desk drawer. He got to his feet and put the note in the back of his mind.  
“Alright, who’s ready for a pop quiz?” The resulting groans of despair made him laugh. He could figure out the identity of Necal Imancil later.  
~~~~~~~  
The school day had been over for forty-five minutes, and yet there Keith remained, marking quizzes at his desk. Another twenty minutes passed before he was interrupted by a knock at his door. It was Ms. Alforson, blushing and grasping her hands anxiously in the skirt of her pale blue dress.  
“Oh, hey, Ms. Alforson. How’s it going?” Keith addressed her politely. Ms. Alforson giggled and tucked a strand of curly white hair behind her ear.  
“Please, call me Allura. I’m doing great, actually. I just wanted to stop by and tell you,” she spotted the painting, “how much I like that painting you have there! It looks like someone must have spent an entire afternoon painting it.” Keith stopped as her words registered in his brain. He recalled the note attached to the painting, “I sat at my easel one afternoon…” Could it really be Allura? He pushed forward cautiously.  
“Yeah, they apparently did,” he began. An idea struck him. “Hey, Allura?” She flushed even darker, if that was even possible, and smiled bashfully at him. “Yes, Keith?” she replied, batting her eyelashes. Keith felt himself grow more weary the more effort she put into wooing him. He really hoped she wasn’t the writer of the note.  
“Have you ever heard of the phrase Necal Imancil?” He crossed his fingers under the desk and watched Allura’s simper turn into a frown. She was quiet for a moment before her face became bemused.  
“I’m sorry, what?” Keith let out the breath he hadn’t realized he was holding and relaxed exponentially.  
“Nothing, it was just this thing I read somewhere a while ago,” he dismissed. There was another knock at the door just then, and Keith startled at the sudden noise. When he turned to the door to see who it was, his gaze landed on Mr. Lance McClain with an armful of printer paper.  
“Hey, there, Keith, my man,” Lance boomed, grinning and sauntering into the room. “These booklets were on the photocopier and you were the most likely person to put outdated memes on unit booklets for your class, so,” he trailed off, setting them on Keith’s desk with a chuckle. Keith huffed a laugh as well, pulling the pile towards himself.  
“Yeah, well, at least the students get a kick out of it; did you know there’s a Tumblr text-post about me? It’s pretty popular with the kids these days.” Lance smirked and his blue eyes became alight with mischief.  
“Buddy, your text-post is not more popular than mine,” he teased lightly. “Hot-teacher text-posts always get more attention than out-of-date-teacher text-posts.”  
“Well, joke’s on you, because there’s also a hot-teacher text-post about me. I win,” Keith boasted. At this, Lance threw his head back in a full-belly laugh that sent warmth through Keith’s body. He couldn’t help himself but smile and laugh along.  
A ringtone sounded from Lance, and he jumped slightly before pulling out his phone. He glanced at the screen before grimacing.  
“Ah, shoot. Sorry, man, I’ve got to take this. Nice painting, by the way.” He winked at Keith as he turned to leave, putting the phone to his ear. Keith could have sworn Lance swayed his hips as he walked just to taunt him..  
“Hello, mi amor. How are you doing today?” Lance asked sweetly through the phone. Keith felt his mood sink slightly at the sudden information of Lance’s now obvious relationship, so he took a deep breath to centre himself as he continued marking the quizzes on his desk. Why did he ever even entertain the idea of Lance being the Secret Admirer? How childish of him. About ten seconds passed before Allura coughed, reminding Keith of her presence. He cringed at himself before turning back to her.  
“Oh, right, sorry,” he apologized. Allura smiled tightly and an idea struck Keith. “Hey, if you’re not busy right now, could you help me with something?” Allura’s face brightened as her curiosity was piqued.  
“What could a science teacher need from an English teacher?” she asked, voice brimming with hope and longing. Keith winced at that unfortunate situation and turned to his desk to get the note.  
“Well, I was hoping you could help me decipher who this note is from,” he said, offering the sticky note to her. Allura took it and studied it for a moment before her expression morphed from one of hope to one of jealousy.  
“Well, it’s definitely from a secret admirer, that’s for sure,” she said bitterly.  
“I know that,” Keith replied impatiently. “I want to know who Necal Imancil is.” They held eye contact for several moments, Keith pleading, Allura contemplating. Finally, Allura cracked, sighing dejectedly.  
“It’s most likely an anagram.”  
“An anagram of what?” Keith questioned.  
“A name, obviously,” Allura replied, putting the note back on his desk. “Unscramble the letters and you’ll have the name of your Secret Admirer.” The resentment in her voice was palpable. As she turned to leave the room, Keith realized then that he would have to try harder in getting her help; after all, she was easily the best English teacher in the school. If anyone could solve the anagram, it was her.  
“Allura, please. I need your help,” he pleaded. When she stopped walking but didn’t turn back to him, he sighed and continued. “You’re the smartest writer I know; if anyone can solve this, you can.” This seemed to get to her and she sighed.  
“I’m going to need a white-board marker,” she stated as she grabbed the note. Keith hurriedly provided her with one, anxiously awaiting the results.  
~~~~~~~  
It took Allura less than ten minutes to go through all the possibilities. While she worked, Keith worried over the quizzes he needed to hand back the next day. He had just finished the last one when Allura let out a soft gasp. He spun around in his chair and leapt up beside her at the board.  
“What? What is it?” he yelled urgently almost jumping out of his skin, he was so nervous. Allura took a moment of stunned silence before she slowly turned to Keith, face twisted in confusion.  
“The only logical name was Lance McClain.”  
Keith’s heart skipped a beat. There was no way. Lance had a partner! … Or did he? Keith knew immediately that he had to talk to Lance as soon as possible. Or even right now… He spun around and quickly made his way towards the door, yelling over his shoulder as he went.  
“Thank you, Allura! You’re the best!” He sprinted out of his classroom and down the hall, navigating his way to Lance’s classroom. It took around seven minutes to get to the other side of the school, even while running the entire way. He didn’t slow down until he reached the closed door of Lance’s room. It wasn’t until he raised his arm to knock that he even considered the possibility that Lance had left the school for the night. His legs started to ache at the thought of having run all that way for no reason. He steeled himself for the possibility of Lance being gone, of rejection, of humiliation. The possibility of acceptance. And then he knocked. One, two, three times. Ten seconds of no sound but Keith’s own heartbeat passed, and he felt his hope deflate as his arm started to drop away from the door. His feeling of disappointment was interrupted as the door was suddenly flung open, revealing a bleary eyed Lance. There was a few moments of stunned silence on both parts before Keith hesitantly spoke up.  
“Uhm… hi?” he managed. Lance shook his head and cleared his throat, pulling himself out of his sleepy stupor.  
“Hey, man, sorry. I was just, uh, resting my eyes before I had to head home,” Lance explained, voice thick with sleep. He rubbed his eyes with the back of his hand as Keith took in his messy hair, slightly puffy eyes, and overall disheveled appearance.  
“And how was your nap?” Keith teased, grinning softly at the man before him. Lance only chuckled and opened the door to his classroom wider to invite Keith in. Keith followed him in to where Lance had been sleeping at his desk. There were evaluation papers and various artworks strewn across his desk, along with assorted sticky note pads and at least twenty pens, each a different shade of blue. Lance lowered himself into his chair, groaning as he reached the cushion. Keith meandered slowly to the desk, his gaze wandering around the room as he took in all the artwork covering the walls. When his eyes finally landed back to Lance, Keith found him already looking back with a soft, open look on his face. The feelings it brought on were intense, flooding Keith’s gut and flushing his face, but he found himself craving more. Then he remembered the reason he was there.  
“So,” Keith began, trying to think of a clever way to word it. He sat on the edge of the desk beside Lance’s chair. “Necal Imancil, huh?” He wasn’t totally sure what he was expecting, but the look of absolute shock on Lance’s face certainly was not on the list. He chuckled nervously as he waited for a verbal response from Lance.  
“How the hell did you figure it out that quickly!?” he exclaimed. “I wrote that note this morning; it took me an hour to find an anagram for my name that sounded at least a little cool.” The astonishment on his face made Keith laugh again.  
“I didn’t figure it out on my own. Allura did all the work,” he explained. He watched as Lance’s expression soured.  
“Who’s Allura?” Lance asked bitterly. Keith raised a curious eyebrow.  
“Allura Alforson. She was in my classroom when you brought me those photocopies,” Keith pointed out. “Did you really not notice her?”  
“Well, I was pretty preoccupied,” Lance admitted, rubbing the back of his neck sheepishly. Keith couldn’t help but laugh at that, shaking his head incredulously. He remembered another thing he needed to ask about.  
“What about your partner?” he asked, suddenly serious. Lance stopped and looked at him, confused.  
“What partner?” he replied.  
“That phone call. Hello, mi amor. Isn’t that a fairly romantic thing to say?” Keith questioned. It took Lance a moment, but realization suddenly dawned on his face.  
“Oh, I see. That wasn’t my partner, that was my abuela. She still lives in Cuba so we haven’t seen each other in a long time. We have weekly phone calls to catch up with each other,” he explained calmly. That answer satisfied most of Keith’s worries, until yet another thought occurred to him.  
“But there is a partner?” he asked dejectedly, avoiding Lance’s gaze.  
“No, there isn’t, Keith,” Lance assured. He rested his hand on Keith’s knee. “But there could be… I mean, if you want.” He quickly took his hand from Keith’s knee and began to ramble. “Because, I mean, I do want, and I’ve been getting this vibe that you do, too, but I could’ve been misreading the whole thing this entire time, and oh my God. I just realized that you might not even feel the same way, I’m so sorry, I don’t know why I didn’t just ask you out like a normal person, and I just-”  
“Do you want to go for coffee?” Keith interrupted. Lance stopped and stared at Keith, eyes wide.  
“You mean,” he started, “right now?” Keith shrugged.  
“Why not? I don’t have any plans, and I could kill for some caffeine just about now.” Keith smiled at Lance. “What do you say, Necal Imancil?”  
Lance beamed in response, melting Keith’s heart like it was vanilla ice cream on a fresh-baked brownie.  
“I would love to go for coffee,” Lance replied.  
And so they went, off into the sunset; hearts full and fingers intertwined, on their way into a new chapter of a wonderful life together. And also into a Starbucks.


End file.
